


The Right Way

by ariofthesea



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariofthesea/pseuds/ariofthesea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every major festive event that Koujaku and Aoba have celebrated since they took their relationship to the next level has had its…rocky moments.  And their first Christmas Eve together sure as hell was no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Way

**Author's Note:**

> For the DMMD Secret Santa Event on Tumblr, and to my giftee, crystal-entei! Enjoy, and have a very Merry Christmas! 
> 
> Also a huge thank you to plotdesigner for beta-ing this fic!

A hole-in-the-wall bar resting on the outskirts of the Old Resident District sounded like the perfect place for Aoba and Koujaku to celebrate their first Christmas Eve.  Fans who had inundated Koujaku with requests to go out on a date that night wouldn’t think to come out that far.  It also helped that, based on what Aoba read online, the few who wrote reviews of the place spoke nothing but praises.

After traveling on foot for almost an hour in twilight-tinged fog, the bar’s warm, quiet and inviting atmosphere was a welcome reprieve.  A few customers gave them an idle glance, but none of them were interested enough to be judgmental or hostile.

“Now here are two faces I’ve never seen before,” said the middle-aged barmaid as Aoba and Koujaku sat at the counter.  “What can I do for you boys?”

“ _Ume Kanon_ , please,”  Koujaku answered.  He nodded his head in Aoba’s direction.  “He’ll take the same thing.”

“I can pick my own drinks, thank you very much,” said a flustered Aoba.

“Yeah, but would you know that this is the brand I had you try on the mainland?  The one you said you really liked?”

“Oh, um…”  Aoba could never tell one drink apart from another, since just looking at any one of them could get him drunk; he often relied on Koujaku’s judgement when it came to brand names.  “In that case, yeah, same as him, please.”

The barmaid spun around and began preparing their drinks.

“But seriously, you don’t have to speak for me like that every time we’re at a bar.  I’m not a child,” Aoba said.

“No, but when you get reckless with alcohol, you start acting like one.”

“You can’t always pin that on me!  Sometimes the stuff you get is too strong!”

“Or maybe you still don’t know when enough is enough for you.”  Koujaku wagged a playful finger.  “Now stop being so fussy, or no drinks for you tonight,  _little boy_.”

Aoba scrunched his nose and faced the other way.

The barmaid set two stone glasses full of hot sake and two small cups in front of them. Aoba poured himself a cup of sake, still facing away, and sipped as the barmaid looked between them, then chuckled. “Oh dear. Having a lover’s spat, are we?”

Aoba nearly sprayed the counter with sake.  After he managed to force it down his throat, he fell victim to a fit of heavy, wet coughs.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” Koujaku chuckled.      

“Hey, wait a minute.”

“Hm?”

The barmaid leaned in and studied Koujaku intently.  He stared back at her, confused.

“There’s something familiar about you,” the barmaid said. “Like I should know you from somewhere.”

“I don’t know how that’s possible,” Koujaku said, and laughed it off, “seeing as it was you who said our faces are new around here.”

“Hmm.”  She pulled back and beamed at him. “I suppose you’re right.”

As the mist-dimmed light faded to darkness outside, customers wandered in until the bar was packed wall to wall. “It’s busier than usual,” the barmaid said.

“Of course it is,” replied another bartender. “It’s Christmas.”

Aoba and Koujaku settled in at their corner of the bar, guard dropping enough to drink.  It only took one sake to get Aoba drunk; two, and Koujaku’s inhibitions were going the way of the dinosaurs. A group of women sat themselves down a few seats away from the two, and when the barmaid once again noted the influx of people, one of the women responded:

“Yup.  All the bars in the popular areas filled up real fast this Christmas Eve, so even people like me who almost never leave the main drags are going to wherever there’s room left.”

Koujaku recognized her voice and let out a small, defeated sigh.

“Huuuh?”  Anything resembling fluent speech was all but gone from Aoba at that point.  “Wha’sa matter, Koushaku?”

“I think our plan to get away from people from the main parts just fell through.”

“Bah, that  _sucks_.”

On the word “sucks,” Aoba slammed his palm down on the counter for emphasis, which caught the attention of the one woman.

“Eh?  Koujaku?”

Koujaku flinched.  All female eyes within a three meter diameter fell on him, including those of the barmaid.

“Koujaku?”  The barmaid gasped.  “As in the famous hairdresser and leader of Benishigure?  Ha!  No wonder I thought you seemed familiar!”

The woman Koujaku recognized as one of his customers glared at him.  The rest of the women, some of whom were customers and some of whom were strangers, all narrowed their eyes at him.

“Why’re they so scary, Goujaku?”  Aoba slurred, ducking behind his boyfriend.

“What are you doing all the way out here, Koujaku-san? Do you realize how many of your customers are worried and wondering where in the world you are?!”

“I just thought I’d try a new place is all.”  Koujaku spoke louder than normal, which Aoba attributed to the alcohol.  

“But without letting anyone know?!”

“My team knew, and that’s all that matters.”

Even Aoba was surprised at how harsh that sounded.  Koujaku was almost never that forceful; either he was mad or drunk.  Or, even worse, both.

“Um, Joukaku~?  Mayyyybe we shoul—”

“Hey!”  Another one of the women snapped at Aoba.  “Stay out of this.  It doesn’t concern you at all!”

“Yes it does, because you shouldn’ talk to him that way!”

“Hmph, coming from the guy who’s so hammered, he can’t even say Koujaku-san’s name right!”

Aoba popped out from behind Koujaku and pointed at the women for emphasis. “I can say whateeeever I want about my boyfriend!”

The instant Aoba realized the b-word had left his lips, he clamped his hands over his mouth.  He didn’t know what terrified him more: the fact that his drunken state led him to carelessly reveal what he and Koujaku had kept on the down-low for months, or the expressions on the women’s faces, which were so shocked and warped that Aoba almost wondered if he somehow performed a mini-Scrap on them.  Koujaku responded with a disapproving sideways glance at Aoba that said: “Nice going, idiot.”    

“I knew it,” one of the women hissed.  “No, we knew it!  All this time, all of those invitations you turned down—it was all ‘cuz you were seeing someone.  But you mean to tell us it was this…this  _boy_?!”

Her words stabbed Aoba.  Koujaku’s fans had looked down on him before as some unremarkable boy who didn’t measure up to the man he had befriended; now that he had verified that their beloved Koujaku-san was dating that very same boy, the day he had dreaded for months had finally arrived. On Christmas Eve, no less!  

Time slowed for Aoba as the women mobbed Koujaku with questions:

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“How could you?!”

“Even if it’s a guy, couldn’t you do better?!”  

Koujaku, usually so patient with women even in the most trying times, pulled back defiantly when the group of women came too close.

“Try to compose yourselves,” he murmured.  “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but please, I know you’re all better than this.”

His words shocked them into silence. Just as most of the women were taking his words to heart and sitting back down, a burly and very drunken man at a nearby table pounded his fist and shouted:

“Will somebody throw these annoying chicks the fuck outta here?!  Goddamn, nobody wants to hear your incessant bawlin’!”  

“Hey!”  Koujaku yelled back at the man.  “That’s no way to talk to women!”

The man stood up slowly to tower over Koujaku like an oncoming tsunami.  Sensing that the large man was going to hurt Koujaku, one of the women clenched her fists and closed in on him.  “How dare you insult Koujaku-san like that!”

He snarled and shoved her away, which made Koujaku stand firm and crack his knuckles.

“All right, since you don’t know the meaning of basic respect, I guess I’ll have to  _beat it into you_.”

Koujaku rushed towards the man and they hit the the floor fighting, shoulders cracking against the ground while exchanging blows.  Other drunks were pulled into the fight, and even two of Koujaku’s customers jumped in.  

 _Goddammit_ , Aoba thought,  _why does it have to be like this?_

The already ruined evening took yet another turn for the worse when a sleazy drunk slinked up behind Aoba and wrapped his arm around Aoba’s shoulders.

“Man, all these people including your boyfriend sure like to fight over stupid shit, huh?”

Normally, Aoba would shake off bar creeps (who seemed attracted to him like really creepy moths to his annoyed flame) without a second thought.  However, at that moment, he found himself too consumed by the silent rage stewing within him to move. If he spoke, it would explode and make everything worse. Even as he felt the stranger’s hand glide down his back to his ass, he did nothing but let the churning anger inside fester.  

“But I can be extra good to you.”  The stranger’s rancid breath seeped down Aoba’s neck.  “We’d be real chill, and you wouldn’t have the problems you have being with Mr. Prettyboy.”

And with that comment, Aoba reached his breaking point.  For just one major holiday, he wanted to have a peaceful outing with his boyfriend.  No worries about fans or random creepers or any other people giving them grief or getting in the way somehow.  Did they get that for the summer festival?  No.  Did they get that for  _tamaokuri_?  No.  And of course, they were not getting that for one of the most romantic nights of the year.

So right when Aoba felt the stranger’s hand cover a butt cheek in an attempt to give it a good, hard squeeze, Aoba stood and spun so that his elbow cracked against the stranger’s nose hard enough to break it.

“ENOUGH!”

His roar silenced the entire bar and brought the brawl to a standstill. The only sound was the stranger now whimpering from the floor. As Aoba surveyed his now attentive audience, he spotted Koujaku trying to discreetly move back to his original seat at the counter.  But Aoba, deep into one of his worst drunken fits, felt that any semblance of a romantic evening was too far gone to be saved.  Rather than let their ruined night wither to a miserable end, he decided he would personally finish it off with a bang.

“Lemme show all you slap monkeys a thing!”  Aoba wobbled up to Koujaku.  “This man, right ‘ere?”  He held out his arms as if showing Koujaku off on display.  “Yup yup, this my boyfriend.”  He pointed a shaky finger at the group of women, then at himself.  “That’s right, ladies. I’m the nasty-ass wolf who stole away your prince-knight-samurai-guy.  It’s me!”

The women’s faces warped with rage, and as did those of the new enemies Koujaku made during the brawl.  Whatever others thought of them didn’t faze Aoba anymore, though, and to prove it, he claimed his throne on Koujaku’s lap.

“Aoba, what the hell—”  

“So nooooow I’m gonna make out with my Koujuju!  And it’ll be sloooooppy!”

Aoba mashed his burning lips against Koujaku’s.  Koujaku didn’t reciprocate most of the kisses, so Aoba kept pecking away while Koujaku fumbled around for his wallet.  He slid a generous amount of money towards the barmaid.  When he tried to say something to her, Aoba attempted to force his tongue into Koujaku’s mouth.  In one abrupt movement, Koujaku stood up and slung the drunken Aoba’s body over his shoulder.

“H-Hey—!”

As Koujaku ran out with Aoba flopping and flailing about, he bowed his head and called out to the barmaid:  “Thank you very much and I profusely apologize for the mess we caused!”

Koujaku continued to run until there was a good distance between them and the bar, with Aoba protesting all the while.  When Koujaku stopped running, he let Aoba’s body drop to the flurry-dusted ground.  Aoba oofed and stuck his tongue out.

“Ow, Konyaku, that hurt~”  

“Okay, look.”  Koujaku turned to face Aoba with a look of extreme agitation.  “For the most part, I’m a pretty easygoing guy.  You should know that better than anyone else.  But that last bit you pulled in there?  I have nothing to say to that except: what the hell?”

“S-so?  It’s not like you haven’t gotten into fights at bars on my behalf.”

“Yeah, way back when we were first dating.”

“But you do other territorial things too!  Like the hickies or the holdin’ me close.”

“Right, because you made me swear to not make a big scene ever again, and you said if I wanted to leave subtle hints, that was fine.  Well guess what, Aoba?  Nothing about what you did back there was subtle.  Not to mention I now have some serious damage control to do because, friendly reminder, some of those girls are also paying customers.  You know, the people whose patronage lets me eat?”

Those words cut through Aoba’s drunken haze with reality’s razor edge.

“B-but Koujaku,” Aoba protested, “you’ve told girls off before, haven’t you?  And haven’t a lotta your fans figured out you were taken anyway?” 

Koujaku let out an annoyed sigh.  “Yes, Aoba.  But let’s be honest: I’ve never done anything like what you did back there.”

Aoba fell silent as the truth of Koujaku’s words washed over him.  Yeah, he had done one or two things in front of Koujaku’s fans before that probably made him look like a jerk, but that evening, he really did go out of line.  The fact that he was drunk really didn’t excuse his behavior towards those women OR the way he put Koujaku on the spot.  He remained sitting cross-legged on the ground as embarrassment and shame welled up inside him.  After a long, uncomfortable silence, he looked up at Koujaku with innocent eyes and asked:

“You’re gonna break up with me?”

Koujaku buried his face into the palms of his hands and groaned.

“Kouja—?”

“No, idiot, I’m not going to break up with you!”

When the last frustrated word left his lips, Koujaku cringed.  He glanced at Aoba once, then looked away before Aoba could see his face soften and held out his hand.

“C’mon,” Koujaku muttered, “we’re going back to my place.”

Aoba accepted Koujaku’s hand and rose to his feet.  They walked without uttering a word, hands the only thing connecting them.  By the time they arrived at Koujaku’s house, a light flurry had begun to fall, powdering their heads and shoulders.  

“Hey, Aoba?”

“Hm?”

Koujaku undid the lock.  “Your head’s been down this whole time, right?”

“What of it?”

“When we go inside, you might want to lift it up.”

It didn’t’ make sense, but Aoba did as told.  Judging from the halls, nothing looked different about the place, so what on Earth—     

All questions swirling in Aoba’s sobering mind were answered when Koujaku turned on the bedroom lights.  On either side of the futon sat a tray of fancy hors d’oeuvres arranged around a white teddy bear.  The covers on the futon, though the same color as the normal ones, were made of high-quality silk and adorned with intricate silver flowers.  As a finishing touch, above their pillows hung mistletoe.

“Welcome home, you two,” said Ren, who popped out from behind the window.  “I hope everything looks presentable.”

“So was I right, Koujaku?”  Beni fluttered down from above and landed on Ren’s head.  “Was my 98% calculation that something would go wrong during your date on the money?”

Koujaku snickered.  “You don’t even want to know.  Anyway, good work, guys.  Everything looks spectacular.”

Aoba stood dumbfounded.  His jaw moved up and down, but he was too shocked to make even the tiniest sound.

“Cute goldfish impersonation, Aoba.”  Koujaku slipped a finger under Aoba’s chin and pushed his lower jaw up to close his gaping mouth.  “But now’s not the time for that.  We’ve got a Christmas Eve to celebrate, and we’re going to do it the right way.”

“S-so all along, you had this…all of this…”

“Of course.”  Koujaku seated himself on the futon.  “Considering some of the craziness we’ve run into around certain holidays, I wanted to make sure there was some form of backup.  After all, this is one of the most romantic nights of the year, and we don’t make it extra special for us, then what good are we?”

Aoba’s face scrunched up like a little kid on the verge of having a crying fit.

“Aoba?  What’s wrong?”

Aoba marched up to the futon and hugged Koujaku with such force that both of them collapsed into the silky covers.  As he lay on top of Koujaku, he smacked the futon with each enunciated word he said into Koujaku’s chest:

“You big, stupid, gooey sap of a hippo!  Guh, I love you to pieces, but _goddamn_ , you really can make me weak in the knees.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I’ve always got your back so you never fall.” 

Koujaku wrapped his arms around Aoba, securing him on top of his body.  They lay as one for several long minutes, their hearts beating synchronously.

“Hey, Koujaku.”

“Hm?”

Aoba raised himself so he straddled Koujaku’s waist.  “Earlier you said you wanted to do things the right way.”  He then leaned in so that the tips of their noses lightly touched.  “So let’s do just that.  Let’s end this evening ‘the right way.’”

The moment they scooted up to underneath the mistletoe as one entity deep into sloppy tongue kisses, Ren and Beni nudged the bedroom door shut and headed for the living room kotatsu.  


End file.
